The Best Medicine
by Blue Interior
Summary: When Doctor Liza Barton stumbles upon a stranger on the streets of Manhattan, she doesn't think much of it. That is, until she realizes he's hurt and can barely remember his own name. All her maternal and doctoral instincts come in to play as she takes him home and patches him up. Little does she know, this is the start of something wonderful.
1. Chapter 1

New York City in March was a lot of things. Pleasant was not one of those things. It was rainy, cold, windy, and overall nothing like Liza was used to. She was a Texas-bred, sunshine-loving, flower-sniffing summer girl, and this was miserable. But she was a doctor, a darn good one, and her services were needed here. She worked with social services, taking care of homeless people, street kids, and the like. Liza had gotten into the habit of checking alleyways on her way home from work everyday. Her grey eyes were bright and shining, quite the opposite of her mood at the moment.

Liza hefted her backpack higher on her shoulders, tucking a strand of blonde hair back into her hat as she took a second glance down an alley to her left. To her shock, there was a man opposite her doing the same. He was tall, with long, stringy brown hair, several-day scruff, and dressed in jeans and a ratty hoodie pulled over a ball cap. The worst thing was, he couldn't seem to think of any earthly reason to be checking down alleyways on his way to wherever the heck he was going.

Liza was going to clear her throat to get his attention, but he looked up at her like a deer in the headlights when her shoe caught on an edge of uneven pavement. She lifted her hand in a silent greeting. "Hi," Liza managed awkwardly. When he didn't respond, she continued. "What are you up to?"

"I'm not causing trouble, if that's what you mean." He said stiffly. Liza held her hands up in the universal 'I surrender' pose.

"I never said you were, I just -" She trailed off as she noticed a stain on his abdomen and the odd way he was standing. "Holy crap, are you bleeding?"

The man jerked away, blue eyes panicky. "Don't touch me."

Liza put her hands on her hips. "Sir, you're hurt and I'm a doctor. I can't just let you walk away. Besides," she huffed, "Manhattan in March is nowhere for anyone to be alone."

"Neither is Brooklyn." Liza frowned.

"What?" The man looked away, his eyes vacant.

"Nevermind. I can't remember much these days." Liza put a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"Hey," she said softly, "are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah, fine." She glared playfully at him.

"Sir, I don't buy that for a minute." He looked down at her, being at least half a foot taller, and smiled sadly.

"Can we start over?" Liza grinned.

"Sure," She took a step back and stuck out her hand. "Liza Barton, pleasure to meet you." She shivered as a gust of wind hit her neck. Smiling, he took her hand in his gloved one.

"Pleasure to meet you too, Miss Barton. Bucky Barnes." Liza cocked her head to the side, and Bucky couldn't help thinking she looked like a golden retriever.

"I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before...Are you familiar with the term 'Slam and Cram'?"

"No, and I'm not sure I want to be."

"Are you from Idaho?"

"Not that I know of."

"Do you know a guy in a red spandex suit and lots of weapons?"

"Um, no." Liza stared at him for a moment longer, then shrugged.

"My cousin must have told me about you at some point or another." She looped her arm through his and began leading him down Broadway Avenue.

"Hang on," Bucky struggled against her, "where are you taking me?"

"Well, Liza mused as they walked, or rather, she walked and Bucky trotted along behind her, "the center is closed now that I locked up, so I guess we're headed back to my place." His eyebrows shot up.

"You really trust me? Like, take me home trust me?"

Liza turned and fixed her gaze on him. If he hadn't known any better, he would have sworn he was looking at some kind of predatory animal. She was sizing him up, stopping his train of thought real quick. It was as though she was staring him down, daring him to make a wrong move, making him wonder just what she was capable of. One thing was for sure, this woman would make a remarkable mother, because one look from her had him wracking his brain for anything he'd done wrong since he met her.

"Should I not?" He couldn't look at her, couldn't meet her eyes.

"I honestly don't know anymore." Just like that, Scary Liza was gone and the woman in front of him was unusually chipper again.

"Well then, I guess I'll have to give you the benefit of the doubt, won't I?" She chirped, and plowed on.

Bucky stood there for a moment, watching her as she sent a look over her shoulder.

"What are you waiting for?" Liza called, grinning. He shook his head and jogged on after her, not really knowing why, but not really questioning it either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey all! First off, thanks to all of you who followed/favorited!**

 **Second off, I have plenty of ideas, but I haven't decided where to go from here, so if you have any suggestions, let me know.**

 **Third off, I doubt any of you care, so here:**

It was a long walk and several trains later when Bucky and Liza made it back to her apartment on the Upper West Side. It was an okay-looking building for NYC, on the outside, that is. With a exaggerated heave meant for his entertainment, Liza pushed open the double doors into the stairwell. The stairs themselves took up the center of the narrow hallway, with apartments on either side. It didn't seem so nice anymore, Bucky thought as he had to nudge a cockroach off his shoe. There were cobwebs, but he didn't mind that so much. It was the roaches and the layer of grime on seemingly everything that threw him off.

Seemingly unfazed, as all resident New Yorkers are, Liza began trudging up the stairs, fumbling in her pockets. Bucky was limping a little, but he went on up after her. "Exactly what floor are you on?" Bucky asked, trying to ignore the pain in his side.

"Um, the sixth, I think." She consulted her key ring. "Yeah, the sixth. Sorry about that. It's a new apartment."

"Looks it, too." He couldn't help himself. He just had to say it. Liza shot him an annoyed look over her shoulder.

"Hey, man. I get this isn't the Four Seasons, but I'm trying. I've only been in New York a year, and that's not long enough to really get my name out there. Once people see what I can do, that I can help, hopefully I'll get a better job. But for now," She stopped to catch her breath a little before attacking the next flight of stairs, "it is what it is."

They spent the rest of the climb in silence, but reached the top nevertheless. Liza stuck her hands in her pockets as she set off down the hallway, sparsely lit by flickering lightbulbs. Eyeballing the nearest exits, Bucky reluctantly followed her. He didn't know what it was, but something about this building felt familiar. Somewhere he used to live? A mission, maybe?

No, this felt older, harder to access...it had to be from before the war.

He jogged to catch up with Liza. For someone a full head shorter than him, she moved crazy fast. She stopped in front of a door, the wood freshly finished, the knob and keyhole polished. She stuck her key in and shoved the door open. "Welcome to Casa de Barton," Liza said proudly, throwing her hand out at the interior. Sliding inside, Bucky took a good look around.

Liza's apartment was spotless. Literally. It was like she had taken a bleach pen to the walls and ceiling and gotten out all the mildew and rot stains. The walls were painted a fresh, springy green and the ugly linoleum flooring he'd seen everywhere else was covered by light wood. He poked at it.

"Is this real wood?" Liza looked up from her spot in the kitchen - the _really_ _nice_ kitchen - and snorted.

"Lord, no. I'm flattered you think I could afford that, though." She hung up her hat, coat, and backpack on a rack near the door and handed him a bottle of water. "Nah, this is just more linoleum. But, hey," She grinned, "it's nice linoleum."

"So, um," Bucky took a long drink, "how long do you want me here?" Liza's eyebrows came together as she frowned at him.

"You're staying until you're better. Now sit, and lemme take a look at you." He hesitated, and her eyes flashed. " _Sit,_ Barnes." He sat.

She gave him a once-over, then sat easily on the edge of the coffee table, holding out her hands. "May I?" He nodded, and she lifted his shirt. She hissed through her teeth. " _God dangit_ , Bucky, why didn't you say anything?" She got up, handing him the hem of his shirt. "Take that off."

"Wait, why?" Liza started rummaging through her backpack.

"You're lucky I found you when I did, Buck. That gunshot wound is getting mighty ugly, mighty fast. Another day without treatment, and it would have gotten infected." He peeled his shirt off, setting it on the floor next to his feet. Liza stripped down to a tank top and her jeans, tied up her hair, and pulled some extra latex gloves out of her bag. "Come into the kitchen, I don't want blood on my sofa."

Reluctant to leave the hypnotically comfortable sofa, he got up and trudged into the kitchen, where Liza waved at a barstool. "Introduce your butt to that stool over there."

"What are you looking for?" He asked, trying to see into her massive First Aid kit.

"Needle, surgical thread, gauze, cream,"

"Cream?"

"Not that kind of cream, you idiot. Like, medicine cream."

"Oh." Liza rolled her eyes, trying to seem annoyed, but Bucky saw her smiling. Her smile faded, though as she scowled and dug more frantically.

"For the love of - I told him not to -" She growled and ripped her gloves off.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, leaning back on the counter.

"My idiot cousin raided my kit again." She poked angrily at her phone screen, then put it to her ear. "Hey, moron, guess who? Yeah, whatever. Listen," she started pacing around the tiny kitchen, making animated gestures with her free hand as she talked, "did you go through my kit the last time you were here?" She waited a beat, then, "Liar! You were in here again, and I know it! Don't you give me that. You sound like my mother, stop it. You owe me a pack of gauze. No, you can't just bring it by the next time you come, I actually need it now." Her face changed as she let the other person talk.

"Hey, no, no, it's not for me. No, I'm okay. Yes, I promise. I'm just patching somebody up. Yeah, I know, but you live close and I'm tough." Bucky could hear the other guy snort. "I am! I carry pepper spray and everything!" Liza ducked her head, trying to smother a laugh.

"Okay, okay, but you know what? You and Wade are going to keep making sure I'm just fine, and with protectors like you two, nobody's going to mess with me. Okay? Yeah, I love you too. Tell the rest I said hi, kay? Yeah. Okie-doke. Yep. Yes. I will. No. Okay. Okay. _I'm hanging up._ Okay, bye." Liza smiled fondly at her phone, then slid it back into her pocket. She turned back to her patient.

"Are you okay with me using toilet paper? It's not the best, but it'll do until my cousin can bring me some gauze." Bucky smiled wearily.

"Trust me, I've had worse." Liza snapped on a new pair of gloves.

"Alrighty then. Here goes." She moved to grab the alcohol and swab, but stopped. "Um, Bucky?"

"Yeah?"

"This is going to hurt. Bad." Bucky took his belt off, and made to stick it between his teeth.

"Oh, my god, no!" He stopped, confused. "It won't hurt that bad," Liza remedied. She darted into the living room, then came back with a pillow. "Here, squeeze this. And watch that metal arm doesn't hit me." She added slyly, one eyebrow quirked.

"How did you -" Liza waved aside the question.

"One day, I'll tell you, but a magician can't reveal all his secrets, am I right?" Bucky rolled his eyes, but clamped his arms around the pillow, hugging it to his chest. The tell-tale flare of pain in his gut let him know that Liza had started her work. He glanced down, hoping to meet her eyes.

Her hair was pulled back away from her face and her grey eyes were intensely focused. Bucky couldn't help but notice that they matched her grey t-shirt perfectly. She gently began putting in the stitches. Bucky tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad was the pain when I found you?"

"Six."

"And now?"

"Eight." She lifted an eyebrow.

"You hide it well." He flinched ever so slightly when the needle caught in his skin. "Sorry. Most people would have blown a gasket just then."

"You do this a lot?" Bucky ground out.

"I'm a doctor. This is New York. Of course I put in stitches a lot."

"How about supers? You know any of them?" She smirked.

"A handful. They stop in every once in a while." Bucky stiffened. "Relax, Skywalker. They won't be stopping by anytime soon. Now, hush."

"Skywalker?"

"I'll tell you later. Now, hush up."

 **A/N: Soooooo I finally got around to posting this...sorry.**

 **Review, Fav, Follow, do whatever it is you do and don't talk to strangers.**

 **-Blue**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry this update is _soooooooo_ late, but I had someone staying with me, so I had to spend time with them.**

 **But, hey! Here's chapter three, ya filthy animals!**

* * *

Liza sank down onto the kitchen floor in crash position, her head between her legs. Bucky got up, testing out the newly stitched wound in his side. He nudged her with a foot. "Barton," he prodded, "you good?"

"Mmph- yeah, I'm good. I just," her whining was slightly muffled, "my hands _hurt,_ man." He rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Barton." She stuck her hand in the air.

"Help me up." Bucky sighed, grabbed her hand, ("Ouch, man, gentle"), and hoisted Liza up so hard, her feet cleared the floor. "Dude," she grinned at him, "That was _so fun_."

"Don't think this is going to be a regular thing." Bucky grumbled.

"Whatever, killjoy. Follow me." She led him to a surprisingly large room off the living room. A queen-sized bed was pressed against the back wall under the windows, and an enormous chest of drawers took up the left wall. Each drawer had a piece of painter's tape slapped on it, with a name scrawled on in Sharpie.

 _Clint_

 _Pool, Dead_

 _S. Rogers_

 _Wilson_

 _Pietro_

 _Bruce_

 _Thor Odinson_

Bucky trailed his fingers over the names. "These are supers." Liza nodded.

"Yeah, they come through here- OHMIGOD," she tore out of the room. Startled, Bucky ran after her, only to find her putting a red potted flower in the kitchen window.

"You ran out here like a bat out of hell for a _flower?_ " He asked, unimpressed. Liza brushed dirt off her hands.

"This flower is my method of communication with those supers. If the flower's in the window, the room's occupied. That way, they won't barge in unless they're bleeding to death." Bucky stared at her. "Dude, it has happened. Why do think I got new floors? It wasn't wine all over, I can tell you that."

"Thanks for the image."

"No problemo. Now, what exactly do you eat?" Bucky glared at her.

"Whatever the hell you eat." She raised her hands in surrender.

"Fine, fine, I'm sorry. Waffles sound good?" He hesitated. "You know, waffles? Whip up some Bisquick, pour on some Aunt Jemima, maybe a little bit of whipped cream?"

Nothing.

"Okay, fine. You know what? Go take a shower. Stick your clothes outside the door, I'll wash 'em. Look around in the drawers for something else to wear in the meantime." Bucky turned to walk away. "Oh, and don't go in the closet. That's Nat and Wanda's stuff. They _hate_ when their stuff gets messed with."

He took a few steps. "Oh, and don't go in Deadpool's drawer. It's probably boobytrapped or full of katanas."

"What kind of people do let in here?" She pulled her head out of the fridge to glare at him.

"Hey, watch how you talk about my cousins."

"Cousins?" All of a sudden, Liza clammed up.

"Bathroom's by my room." She pointed to the other side of the apartment and Bucky could tell he needed to just shut up and shower. Liza turned the radio on, tuning him out.

* * *

Bucky turned the shower on and stepped back, letting the water heat up. Once he saw steam, he stripped and got in, hissing as the water burned his skin. Despite the pain, boiling hot showers were one of the only things that shut down Bucky's mind down enough for him to think about something other than HYDRA.

They, along with Captain America, had been on his tail for a long while, but hiding in Manhattan had been a good idea. Proximity meant that the good captain at least wouldn't look for him there. Or so he hoped.

Once he was thoroughly soaked, Bucky looked around for soap and shampoo. He didn't have to look far, though, because roughly half a dozen baskets hung from an extra shower rod by his head, each one filled with different products. These, too, had names, but not so many labels.

 _Wilson/S. Rogers_

 _Wanda/Pietro_

 _Pool, Dead_ (This one had a handgun sticking out from behind the loofah)

 _Clint/Natasha_

Natasha and Wanda...those weren't on the drawers, were they?

No...they were the ones who used the closet, right?

Scrolling through the various bottles, Bucky finally decided on S. Rogers's _Clean Spice_ shampoo and Natasha's vanilla-scented conditioner. He poked at the bandage on his abdomen, but pulled his hand away real quick. The little sucker underneath was putting up a good fight.

He turned off the water and stepped out, pressing the towel Liza had given him to his face. It was soft and fluffy, and definitely not what he was used to. Bucky dried off, then slipped into the clothes he'd picked out: Clint's tee and S. Roger's boxers and sweats.

Liza was in the kitchen when he came out of the bathroom. She had the radio on full blast and was dancing to a song as she stirred waffle batter.

 _"Grit your teeth, pull your hair, paint the walls black and scream F-_ oh hey Buck! Have a good shower?" She closed the fridge door with a quick hip-bump.

"Yeah," he muttered. Liza eyed him, and he noticed that she'd changed into flannel pajama pants and a guy's Sokovia sweatshirt. "Whose're those?"

"Oh, these?" She glanced down at herself, spilling a little milk on herself in the process. "The pants might be Steve's seein' as I had to roll 'em like forty times, but the sweatshirt's definitely Pietro's. I did steal Wanda's bra, too, if anyone cares." She squirmed. "It's a little small though."

"That's nice, Barton." Liza, being the mature individual that she was, stuck her tongue out at him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello, Internet!**

 **Quick shoutout to my girl Alexis for guessing what song Liza was singing last chapter and being the first reviewer EVER! Woooooo!**

 **Anyone else have any ideas? There are no wrong answers...actually, yes, there are, but whatever. And thanks to all the followers/favorites.**

 **Also, it's been almost five chapters and someone told me I should post a disclaimer, so...**

 **MARVEL OWNS THINGS. I AM POOR, THEREFORE I DO NOT.**

* * *

Outside the window, rain was starting to patter onto the fire escape. Bucky sat on the white couch (on Liza's insistence that he needed to be off his feet) rather reluctantly, watching the drops race down the glass.

In the kitchen, Liza was pouring batter into her waffle maker and humming along to the radio. She glanced up to check on Bucky. Something was off about him, but she couldn't put her finger on what it was. But he was just sitting there, one leg bent, the sole of his foot pressed against his other thigh, and one arm up on the back of the couch, his hand supporting his face as he stared into space. His dark hair framed his face like a curtain, and he smelled _amazing_. Not to mention, Clint's tee showed off the outline of his pecs and his muscled arm quite nicely, so she wasn't complaining about the view.

Liza checked the timer, and when it clicked down to 00:00, she lifted the lid and pulled out the four waffles inside. She set them on a plate, then poured in more batter. She'd seen guys built like Bucky before and they put away food like nobody's business. To be safe, she pulled out the toaster and popped in a few bagels as well. Both dinged at the same time a few moments later. She shuffled them onto plates, pulled out the cream cheese, butter, jam, syrup, and whipped cream. "Oi, Buckeroo," she called.

He turned to look at her, suddenly alert. "Don't call me that." She shrugged.

"Get over here and help me take this stuff to the table." She pointed at the table in question, then whisked off with the waffles. He narrowed his eyes.

"I thought you wanted me off my feet."

"It would take tremendous skill to pull that back open by doing something as simple as carrying stuff to the table." Husky shook his head at her, but got up and grabbed the bagels and cream cheese anyways.

They were just sitting down when someone knocked on the door. Both Liza and Buck tensed. "Go to the room and lock the door," Liza said through gritted teeth, deadly serious. Bucky nodded and disappeared into his bedroom. Liza crept to the door. "Who is it?"

"Liz, lemme in."

"Wade?"

"Uh, yeah!"

"Dude, did you not see the flower?" There was a beat of silence, then,

"I'm bleeding."

"Wade, it won't be fatal."

"Please?"

"Why are you here?" Liza sounded exasperated.

"You have waffles."

"Wade Wilson, you did not come to my apartment despite the fact that I have someone here just because I have waffles."

"...please?" Liza sighed.

"Gimme a sec, Wade." She walked over to the bedroom door and knocked. Bucky opened up. "Hey, is it okay if I let my cousin in to come eat with us? I mean, he's just gonna sit out there all night bein' a pain in the ass if I don't, but I've left him out there before." Bucky seemed to weigh the pros and cons.

"Will he rat me out?"

"It's a possibility, but only if he recognizes you." Bucky tensed, so she went on, "If he does, I'll just cash in the favor he owes me and tell 'im to keep his mouth shut."

"I don't like this."

"Then I'll make him a to-go baggy." Bucky felt a little bad for sending the dude away hungry, but his survival and freedom were more important. He could hear Liza puttering around in the kitchen, the rustling of the baggy and the little thuds as the waffles hit the bottom of the box she'd grabbed. He heard the clanking of glass on tupperware as she got out a container, and the soft liquidy sound of her pouring syrup into it. She opened the door and handed out the baggy.

"Here, Wade."

"What? You're not letting me in?"

"Sorry Cuz."

"Me, your oldest-"

"Not true,"

"-nicest-"

"Also not true,"

"-wisest-"

"That's definitely not true,"

"-gentlest-"

"Wade,"

"What?"

"Go." Liza said, struggling to hold back her laughter. Wade sighed and leaned in, pressing his spandex covered lips to her cheek.

"I can't believe I love you."

"I love your sorry ass too, now get out of here."

Bucky could hear Wade laughing even after Liza closed the door.

* * *

 **Sorry for the short chapter, brositas. I'm feeling super blocked.**

 **Keep on keepin' on, my lovelies.**

 **~Blue**


	5. Chapter 5

**Sooooooooooooooo sorry for the long wait, guys.**

 **I got a bunch of great reviews! Some of y'all commented that you were glad Wade had a friend, and I just wanted to clarify that Liza and Wade are** ** _cousins._** **But other than that, you all have been wonderful!**

* * *

A few days later, Liza and Bucky had settled into a routine of sorts. Liza would get up early, set out breakfast for Bucky, go to work, and be back in time for dinner. She wasn't entirely sure what he did all day, but she'd suggested a few different movies to pass the time.

"Barnes! I'm home!" She called as she bustled in the door. She'd gone grocery shopping on her way back to the apartment, and had a few new movies. When he didn't answer, she put down the brown paper bags and started looking around. Once she hit the living room though, she couldn't help but notice Bucky'd left the TV on, _again._ With a frustrated groan, Liza reached for the remote to switch it off, but the head story on the news caught her attention."

 _"Citizens of America, please be aware that the International Russian assassin called the Winter Soldier, tool of the recently fallen secret_ _organization HYDRA, is still on the loose. Captain America is in hot pursuit, and has informed us that the Soldier is headed north, towards the New England area. For your safety, this is a photograph of the Winter Soldier."_

The remote fell out of Liza's hand, clattering to the floor.

The man she'd fed, clothed, sheltered, was the _friggin WINTER SOLDIER!?_

 _WHAT EVEN WHAT THE HECK HOLY CRAP OH SHIT OH MY SWEET JESUS OH GOD OH GOD OH MY LORD HE IS IN MY HOUSE SWEET EVERLIVING GOODNESS SWEET LORD PRESERVE ME OH MY GOD_

Note the eerily calm inner monologue. She spun around a few times, cupping her hands around her eyes to focus her vision. "Ohhhhhkay, this is not good. This is definitely very bad. Clint is going to murder me. Wade is going to murder Clint. The Avengers are going to attempt to murder Wade. I will be dead. I am going to die."

The creaking of the balcony door open sucked her back into the present. Bucky stood there, hands glued to his sides. Liza stared at him.

"You're him." She cleared her throat. "You're the Winter Soldier." He frowned.

"Yes."

"Were you going to, um, kill me?"

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Are you really running from Captain Stars-and-Stripes over there?"

"Yes." Liza plunked down onto the coffee table, her legs like jelly.

"Right, so," She took her beanie off and scrubbed at her eyes, effectively smearing her make-up, "I am currently housing a national fugitive, hiding him from Captain America, and my cousin, who's an Avenger, and my other cousin, who's an unkillable mercenary for hire. Right. This is fine." She looked around, smiled for a second, frowned.

Then, like a true hero, she passed out.

* * *

 **I am sooooo sorry that this chapter is short, especially after so long. But at least now Liza dearest knows what she'd gotten herself into!**

 **Love y'all!**

 **-Blue**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm back! School is getting super busy, so updates will not be a common occurrence.**

 **On to the story!**

* * *

When Liza came to, she was laying on her bed, tucked in surprisingly gently. Her hands were folded over her stomach and her hair was fanned out over her pillow. She blinked blearily. "Barnes," she croaked half-consciously. Her mouth was so dry that her tongue stuck to her teeth. Her head pounded mercilessly. "Barnes," she called, a little more insistently.

"Liza? You're okay? You're up?" Liza heard her housemate's worried voice as he hurried to her room. Her voice stared to fail.

"Barnes," she whispered as he sat at her side. Bucky brushed her hair aside surprisingly gently with his metal hand.

"Are you okay?" He said very clearly. She sat up a little.

"You called me Liza," she said, smiling smugly. Bucky's worried frown deepened into one of annoyance.

"Barton, just answer the question." Liza sat all the way up and leaned forward into Bucky's shoulder. She rubbed into him, nuzzling like a happy cat. He started back, but she caught him by the shoulders and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. Bucky froze.

"Bucky Barnes, you may be an internationally wanted assassin who's killed dozens of people, but you're _my_ internationally wanted assassin. And it's gonna stay that way, sucker, for better or for worse."

"Did you just quote wedding vows at me?"

"Shut up and accept the compliment, Barnes." He raised his hands in submission.

"Fine, you win." Liza smiled and knocked her shoulder with his.

"That's better. Now," she winced, "where the hell did I put the Aspirin? My head's killing me." Bucky lifted her up and plunked her back into bed, tidying the covers around her.

"Stay here, I'll grab it." Liza whined and grabbed his hand. She tugged him and he let himself fall, landing next to her on the bed. As Bucky tried to situate himself, he was interrupted by a sleepy Liza burrowing into his side. "The hell are you doing, Barton?" She made a little sound in the back of her throat like a happy dragon.

"You're warm and comfy. I'm not letting you leave until I've had a nap." Bucky tired to get up, but a slim hand on his chest stopped him. "Barnes, don't think I don't hear your nightmares. I know that you don't sleep at night. I know that you've got the worst PTSD I've ever seen. And I'd like to think that I know you. So I know that you need sleep, Barnes. Lay down and sleep with me."

"Barton, I..." He trailed off, staring at the wall.

"No need to thank me Barnes, just shut up and sleep." Liza chuckled and tossed the blankets over him.

His only response was wrapping his arms around her waist and shutting his eyes.

* * *

When Bucky woke up, he was immediately aware of everything around him, but a few things stuck out.

The first was that he wasn't having a nightmare.

The second was that something was latched around his waist.

The third was that he was latched to someone's waist.

He looked down, and saw what he'd later swear on a stack of Bibles was an angel. She was nestled against his chest, her eyes closed tight. Her blonde hair formed a halo, fanning out behind her. Her lips were puffy and parted ever so slightly and Bucky's heart was pounding so loudly he was afraid it would wake her up. He gulped and slowly attempted to wrestle her out of his arms. She shifted and sighed, and he froze.

"Mmph- Bucky?" He held deathly still and made what he hoped were soothing noises.

"Shhh. Go back to sleep, Liz." Liza smiled sleepily and nuzzled his chest.

"I'love ya, Barnes, y'know that?"

 _Abort Mission._ System Fail. _Abort Mission. System Fail. Abort Mission. System Fail._

She what?


	7. Chapter 7

**Guys it has been almost a year since I updated TBM. It literally never occurred to me and I'm so sorry! Out of Nowhere has been completely consuming my efforts. Please, R &R and let me know you're still on board!**

 **Again, I am so sorry lovelies!**

* * *

After what Bucky liked to call "The Great Confession", he'd been doing his best to keep his distance. This sweet, innocent, five-foot-three angel of a woman was the first person to care about _him_ , to see _him_ , in seventy years. To be close to him was to be close to death, and he wasn't ready to have her blood on his hands too.

Unfortunately for him, Liza didn't seem to be getting the memo. When he was in the bathroom, trying to shave, she'd waltz in, toothbrush hanging from one corner of her mouth, and spit in the sink, giving him a sudsy smile as she rinsed with fresh water from the Daffy Duck cup sitting on the edge of the counter.

When he took a rare moment to leave his room and stand out on the balcony late at night, feeling the fresh air on his face, she'd come join him, leaning on the railing with a glass of Merlot in one hand, arms lazily crossed, legs long and creamy in the light of the city below them and making him feel all sorts of things he shouldn't feel.

When he was in his room, trying to brood, she'd poke her head through the door. She'd have that irrisistable smile on her lips as she asked him if he wanted to watch a movie, or help her cook, or _hell Barnes, just come out and eat with me._

He hated seeing that look in her eyes when he told her no.

But, he told himself, he was doing this for her own good. He was doing this to keep her safe. As soon as he was well enough to go on the run again, he'd be out of her hair and she'd be safe again, safe from the sick bastards hunting him.

This was for her own good.

* * *

Liza hadn't realized something was wrong until Bucky bolted out of her bed, disappearing into his room. She sat up, blearily wiping her eyes.

"Bucky? What's wrong?" The door slammed. She kicked off her covers. "Bucky! What in the world? Are you ok?"

Nothing.

"Was...was it something I said?"

She didn't see or hear him until the next afternoon. Even then, he started acting like the ghost Mrs. Lecthaler down the hall swore up and down lived in the boiler room, always lurking at the edges of her vision, rarely leaving his room, and completely blowing her off no matter what she asked him. She just didn't get it.

Bucky used to love movie nights.

A fond smile broke through her melancholy as she rememberd the night she showed him The Proposal, with two of her all time favorites, and two of Bucky's up and coming favorites: Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock, and the times he'd smirked or smiled, or _hell on a stick,_ the time he actually outright laughed. She tried to tell herself Bucky Barnes' laugh wasn't the hottest thing this side of the Mississippi, but who was she kidding?

This man had her feeling all sorts of giddy feelings, and just when she thought they were getting to be friends, _boom_. He was gone.

No more movie nights. No more cooking lessons. No more busting out her mom's old record player and trying to play something Bucky might recognize. No more shared dinners. No more of Bucky's dumb dry sense of humor.

Where had she gone wrong?

* * *

 **It's a tear-jerker! I know, I'm sorry...but hey! Update! R &R lovelies!**

 **~Blue**


	8. Chapter 8

**This is the quickest I've updated in a while...sorry bout that loves. Honestly, Liza and Bucky were supposed to have a completely different relationship, but now I've decided to take them an entirely new way and I'm SO EXCITED to show it to you guys.**

 **R &R! xx**

* * *

Liza lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The covers tangled around her legs. She let out an annoyed huff and rolled over, hiding her frozen toes in the fleece lining of her blankets. Honestly, what was his deal? That know-nothing, ungrateful, moody, little son of a...

She threw an arm over her eyes. Who was she kidding?

She missed him. She missed him a lot.

Her phone rang, breaking the sanctity of the moment. Groaning, Liza rolled the other way and smacked around until her hand found the offending object. The light of the phone came on as she answered, nearly blinding her.

"Oh, god," She muttered, tilting it away. "Mmpf- this is Liza."

"Hey, sugar plum." Liza recognized her cousin's voice and flopped back into the pillows.

"Oh my god you absolute freaking cow turd. Do you know how late it is?"

"I love you too." He had the nerve to sound amused.

"What do you want?"

"I want _you_ to come out to the farm for Lila's birthday in a couple weeks."

"Clinton Francis Barton. This is not the kind of invitation you extend at-" a brief glance at the clock, "-two forty-seven in the morning." He swore. "Ooh, you kiss your kids with that mouth?" He had his laugh, she was gonna have hers.

"Is that what time it is there?"

She rolled her eyes. "Here, in New York, at my home, where we both live most of the time, yes. Where are you?"

"Korea."

"May I ask _why_ you're inviting me to Lila's birthday from Korea?"

"You may not. Go back to bed."

"I have to check with my houseguest before I come."

"Yep, gotcha. Sleep."

"You woke me up in the first place. You know, if Tony would just give me a StarkPhone like I keep having you ask him to, it would be voice activated, and I wouldn't blind myself the next time you decide to contact me in the middle of the night when all sane people are asleep in their beds-"

"Goodnight Elizabeth."

"Screw you." She decided and promptly hung up.

She thought that maybe she'd get some sleep before she had to be up for work. She was wrong. Approximately one hour later, she was still staring at the ceiling, lost in her thoughts. The fact that her thoughts were quite frequently stuck on a pair of blue eyes was irrelevant.

'I'd have to check with my housemate?' She slapped a hand to her forehead. What in the hell was that all about? She and Bucky were the farthest thing from on speaking terms, and she didn't even want to drive way out to the corner of nothing and nowhere just for a kid's birthday party with exactly four adults and two children in attendance. Even her favorite neice's birthday party with exactly four adults and two children in attendance.

Dammit. She'd have to check with Bucky, because _dammit_ , she'd pinky swore she wouldn't miss Lila's birthday that year, and Liza was not about to ruin her spotless record with a broken pinky swear.

Liza threw the covers off and managed to find her thermal socks in the dark. She shuffled across to the door, where her fingers lingered a little too long on the knob.

To anger the assassin, or not to anger the assassin, that was the question.

With a plethora of muttered swears, she fumbled across the living room and stopped just outside Bucky's door. Ever so gently, she knocked.

"Hey, Barnes? Listen, I know you're up. Can we talk?"

* * *

 **What'd I tell you? Up and ready, just for you! R &R, lovelies**

 **Blue xx**


	9. Chapter 9

**Yes, yes, I know, I suck majorly. I'm a horrible person and a terrible updater. But, to be fair, it hasn't been that long since I updated TBM.**

 **Pleeeeeeeease review!**

* * *

Somehow, Liza had managed to lure Barnes out of his room and into the kitchen, dropping a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, black, just how he liked it. He eyed her nervously and took it. "Jesus, Barnes, I didn't poison it, just drink the damn coffee."

He pursed his lips and glanced up at her. She was obviously attempting to look absolutely terrifying, hair piled messily on top of her head, dark bags under her eyes, her old warmup tee from her high school volleyball team, llama pajama pants, and unicorn slippers. Nevertheless, he gave in and wrapped his hands around the ceramic. She nodded and took the seat across from him.

"Alright, listen. You have been avoiding me like the plague for weeks now, and- no, Barnes, let me speak- I don't need to know why." She held her hands up in an obvious surrender. "That's not my business. I just need to know whether you're gonna go all Winter Soldier on my ass, or anybody else's ass for that matter, if I take off for a week."

Bucky sighed and swirled the coffee in his mug. "Where?"

"I can't tell you that." He frowned. "It's classified."

"How the hell did you come across classified information?"

"You think I can run Hotel Barton without learning a thing or two? You're not the only badass at this table." That marked the second ever time her resident assassin truly laughed, head ducked, shoulders shaking as he tried to muffle his chuckles. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, no, Barton, I swear I'm not laughing at you-"

"You _are_!" She cried, leaping up and pointing, laughing herself, almost unable to control it. He gave her that irritating little smirk that pulled up one side of his mouth more than the other, _not that she noticed_ , and looked up at her, looking blessedly happy for the first time in weeks.

"And just what are you going to do about it, dollface?" She sighed and shook her head, trying her best not to let him see just how attractive he was when he called her doll. Hoo, lawdy, this man was an absolute dream.

"I just might kick you out, or worse...stop cooking your meals." Bucky had the good sense to look worried.

"Matter of fact, I oughta do just that for the way you've been treating me lately." Now he had the good sense to look ashamed of himself. "Just in the world were you thinking?"

He sighed and took a sip of coffee. "I was thinking that I'm dangerous, Barton, and you ain't been nothin' but good to me and I don't want to see you hurt."  
"If," he sighed, searching for the words, "if they find me, they will find you. And if they find you, they will make me kill you and I won't even know what I'm doing. And even if they don't, who's to say whether I'm completely sane? Or who's to say I won't wake up one morning and have no idea who you are and kill you on accident? You see where I'm coming from?"

She sat back down and wrapped her hands around her mug, trying to leech off of the warmth it radiated.

"I do see where you're coming from, but I just wanna tell you that that's literally all you had to say and we could have avoided this whole mess. Bucky, I am not afraid of you." He fixed her with a look. "Alright, those eyes of yours can be a little intense, but I know that under all those rippling pectorals is this cocky little son of a gun from Brooklyn who loved nothin' more than dancing and dames."

"Now how in the hell-"

She waved his question aside. "I did my homework and may or may not have given the Good Captain a phone call. Oh, keep your skirt on, I didn't tell him anything. We just had an amiable chat and you happened to pop up in conversation."

"Now, reason number two why I am not the slightest bit afraid of you: you know that I happen to share a last name with one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes, or whatever they're calling themselves these days,"

"The Avengers," he supplied.

"Yeah, that. Well, we're cousins. And since I get invited over every once in a while for dinner or movies or the occasional girls' night, I've done my damndest to wriggle my way into their hearts too, and it's working. So I know that backup is only a phone call and a glance that-a-way." She gestured vaguely in the direction of Avengers Tower.

Her roommate gave her an appraising once-over and shifted in his chair. "Well, it would seem that I've underestimated you."

"Apology accepted." She chirped, trying to lighten the mood. He smirked.

"Whatever floats your boat, Barton."

"You think you got it in you to call me Liza?"

"We'll see."

She grinned into her coffee. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

 **I'm doing my best. Please don't hurt me.**

 **Blue xx**


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm excited for all the Auntie Liz coming up** **in the next chapter. I love Cooper and Lila so much, guys.**

 **Also, shoutout to _scottiedog_ and _Katie MacAlpine_ for reviewing the last chapter.**

* * *

Liza gazed out the window of the tiny rickety old plane, trying to pinpoint the spot where she would soon plummet to her death, trapped in a pressurized tin can.

Liza hated flying with every fiber of her being. She hated being dangled in the sky like bait, just waiting for some supernatural being to slap her back down to earth in a fiery spiral of death. She clung to the armrest and tried to steady her breathing.

"Not fond of flying?"

"I _hate_ flying, thank you very much." The portly man sat next to her smiled kindly.

"My wife used to feel the same way. Is it the turbulence?" She ground her teeth.

"Yes, partly."

"Alright then, when the plane rattles, don't tense up. Treat it like bumps in the road. Just let your body sway." She nodded, taking deep breaths with her eyes closed. "And keep yourself distracted." He rummaged in his bag. "Here, take this. Keep it. It was my Gemma's favorite for flights."

Liza took the old book in her hands, running a hand over the worn cover, smiling faintly. "Treasure Island,"

"They're called classics for a reason."

For hours, Liza buried herself in the pages, closing her eyes and letting herself sway with the rocking of the plane whever they hit turbulence.

When they finally landed at that little airport in the middle of nowhere, Liza nearly sprinted off that plane, barely remembering to thank that wonderful old man as she bolted for baggage claim. When her heart had slowed to a normal rate, she fished her phone out of her pocket and dialled the newest number. When the person on the other end answered, they said nothing. "Hi, Barnes. How you liking that new phone?"

"I told you you wouldn't die." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, but I almost did." There was no way she could have known, but Liza would later swear she could hear Bucky smirking.

"Well, you're fine now. Do you see your cousin?"

"Not yet, but he'll be here soon."

"Text me in twenty minutes. Don't know how to respond, but I'll read it at least."

"I will, Barnes. Stay in the apartment. If you need anything, call me and I'll send someone over with it."

"Understood."

"Be careful, Barnes."

"I will, for the hundredth time, Barton." He hung up and Liza slipped her phone away, snagging her bag off the carousel with an exaggerated swing necessary for someone of her size.

Elbowing her way out of the crowd surrounding the baggage carousel, Liza hurried for the door, swiping hair our of her face with the back of one wrist. Her bag thumped against the backs of her heels and the books in her bag dug into her ribs. Then, simply because providence has a sense of humor, the wheel of her suitcase broke. "Oh, perfect."

"Lizzie! Lizzie, hey, over here!" She lifted her head to glare at her cousin.

"Clinton Francis Barton, it's about damn time. Get your ass over here and help me with this damnable thing." The arrogant archer leapt from his truck and swanned over, pushing her suitcase over. "Hey, what the-"

She never got the chance to finish her rebuke, because he'd pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight to his chest. After a moment, she returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around his trim waist and resting her forehead on his chest.

"I missed you, Liza."

"Hell's bells Clint, it's only been a month."

"And there it is, the scathing remarks in place of affection." She sighed and took a step back.

"Oh please. If I were nice, you'd assume I was trying to weasel my way out of owing you money." He scowled.

"Honestly, I made that assumption _one time_ , Liza."

"Well, you know what they say about making assumptions," She teased, eyes sparkling with mischief, "it makes an-"

Clint sighed and grabbed her suitcase by the handle on the side. "Ass out of you and me, yes, Elizabeth, I'm well aware."

Liza just grinned up at her older cousin, falling into step beside him as they made their way back to his truck. They were more alike than they thought, with the same confident strut to their strides, the same half-smirk playing on the same chapped lips, the same clever hands and nimble fingers (with the same chewed cuticles).

Clint hefted Liza's traitorously broken suitcase up into the bed of his truck with far more ease than she had. "Hey, careful with that! It's Louis Vuitton, and it cost me an arm and a leg." He shot her a skeptical look.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." When she had finished glaring and hoisted her little self into the cab, he shook his head. "Louis," he mused, "Who names their suitcase?"

* * *

 **I reallyyyyyy love their dynamic.**

 **So, Bucky's safe back in New York. He knows to keep the door locked and not to talk to strangers.**

 **Clint's officially made his grand entrance. Now, it's time for Laura and the kiddos!**

 **Let me know what you're thinking!**

 **Blue xx**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, THIS TIME there's Auntie Liza. Finally. Lemme know what you think/what you wanna see because I've got some block over little details.**

 **Katie MacAlpine: Bless you, you're a doll xx**

 **theawesomest5: Glad you like it! Stick around, lovely!**

* * *

Clint drove and drove and drove and drove until Liza was sure he'd moved the house, because "There's no way in hell this drive was this long last time."

Her cousin shook his head and spared a glance over at her. She had her feet up on the dash, and her arms crossed defiantly over her chest. If she was attempting to look serious, the look was ruined by the open window turning her already messy blonde hair into a hurricane. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have sworn it was his Aunt June sitting there in the passenger seat.

"You look just like your mom when you're mad." Instead of slugging him in the arm, as he'd come to expect, she smiled and looked up hopefully.

"I do?" Clint pulled the visor down.

"Yeah. Do you remember her?" Liza snorted bitterly and turned her gaze back out the window.

"Not nearly as well as I wish. But I do remember." She fixed him with a curious look. "Tell me about her."

Clint huffed and shook his head. "You'll have to be more specific than that. I'll tell you what, June was a hoot and a half."

Liza grinned and fiddled with the little ring on her right ring finger, a dainty gold band with a tiny sapphire sat just in the middle of it, right in line with her knuckle, spinning it round and round around the digit. "That much I remember. When I was little, she used to crank her record player up all the way and dance while she cleaned. God, she was gorgeous,"

"I've got some old photos upstairs, if you wanna look at them." Liza launched out of her seat and over the center console to plant an elated kiss on his weathered cheek.

" _Thank you,_ Clint. I want nothing more than to cuddle my absolutely adorable neice on her birthday, and look at those photos."

"And share a beer with Laura and swap those stupid-ass stories about me."

Liza threw her head back and laughed uproariously. "Yeah," She conceded, "That too."

They passed the rest of the ride singing horrendously off-key to the skipping cd in the ancient radio. Neither of them could sing worth a damn, but that didn't stop them one little bit.

Clint's farm was huge, absolutely huge. The house was just as impressive, white and perfect and homey. A homemade sign hung from the abnister of the front porch read, in crudely formed and sloppily painted letters: WELCOME AUNTIE LIZA.

Said Auntie let out a little laugh and snapped a photo. Clint grinned. "Yeah, this is the biggest event of the whole year. Auntie Liza's coming for a whole week, I mean, what else could a kid ask for?"

She snorted. "Lila needs to up her wishlist game. She won't be this excited with me forever."

"Doubtful,"

The front door burst open with enough force to chip the paint as it banged into the wall, and two little blurs flew out to the truck, chanting, "Auntie Liza! Auntie Liza's here!" Liza frowned, trying her best to open the door without banging any little heads. As soon as she was clear, though, she knelt and swooped Lila into her arms.

"How's my big bad birthday girl?" Liza swung little Lila in a circle.

"Auntie!" She giggled, "I'm good! Daddy got us chickens!"

"Did he really?" Liza raised an eyebrow at Clint over Lila's shoulder.

'Laura's idea,' he mouthed.

Cooper had had enough of Lila hogging his auntie, and tugged on her shirt. "Auntie Liza, wanna help us name them?" She grabbed him up in a giant bear hug.

"Of course I do, Coop! How many cluckers are we talking here?"

"Five," She put a finger to her chin.

"I'm thinking, Spider Bite, Lightning, Green Bean, Tin Man, and Blondie." Lila and Cooper seemed thrilled with these names. Clint, understanding the reference, was equally delighted.

The porch door creaked open again, this time by an (as always) effortlessly stunning Laura with a roly-poly Nate on her hip.

Liza sqealed and raced over. She threw her arms around Laura and pecked her cheek, then wriggled her fingers at little Nate. He gave her a gummy grin in return and grabbed at her fingers with his own slobbery mitts. Laura hefted him over in Auntie Liza's hold.

"You like him so much, you take him. He's obscenely heavy, Liz. I'm in a wrist brace because of this mammoth of a child." She waved her braced arm.

"Aw, poor Mommy. Nate, what are you doing to her?" He planted his hand on her cheek. "Ew. It's ok, it's fine, I'll just rub it off on Daddy."

"No the hell you won't. I've had my fair share of all that. Get BACK, woman!" Boosting Nate up higher on her hip, Liza chased after Clint, her nephew laughing uproariously.

"C'mon, Nate, let's get Daddy!" She held out Nate's slobbery hand in front of them.

Laura just shook her head. In the span of four minutes, she'd gone from living with three kids and her husband to living with just five kids.

This was gonna be a long week.

* * *

 **Gotta love Laura. That woman's a saint.**


	12. Chapter 12

**BecomingFearless1F: So glad you liked it! Wonderful to hear from you!**

 **Katie MacAlpine: I love your consistent feedback! Nate will definitely be back this chapter, but Liza should be headed back to New York in a chapter or two.**

 **WildestDreams72394: WOW! I'm so glad you liked it! Unfortunately, Wade is going to be a little more of a backround character, and maybe a little OOC sometimes, but he will show up, that I can say. I'm so bad at writing him tho lol**

 **Ok, I'm back, it's Lila's birthday, and I'm the worst updater ever, I know. To whoever's waiting on OON, sorry, but don't hold your breath. Kat does not want to be written rn, I don't know what it is but my brain just cannot stay on her for more than two seconds.**

 **Ok, story:**

* * *

Liza was very much unaccustomed to waking up in such a violent manner. Cooper and Lila plowed through the door so fast it banged on the wall behind it and knocked over a vase on the opposite side of the room, leapt onto her bed, and began jumping up and down. Lila sat down hard on her stomach.

"AUNTIE LIZA WAKE UP IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!" Liza did her best not to chuck her neice across the room.

"Yep, I know - oof, Lila I can't breathe - and if you go downstairs so that I can get ready, I bet you'll find Mommy making pancakes in the kitchen - oh my lord Cooper you're standing on my leg - so go check that out."

Once the magic word 'pancakes' had been uttered, it was like someone yanked them from the room by a rope tied to their ankles. Lila and Cooper flew out of the room and down the stairs like a tiny herd of buffalo. Liza groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the pillow and waiting for suffocation.

Clint, curse him and his noisy offspring, poked his head in. "Knock, knock. I thought I heard a damsel in distress."

She pulled her face up. "I'm a damsel, I _was_ in distress, and I'm going back to sleep." Her head dropped again.

He laughed and lunged onto the bed, grabbing her up in a giant bear hug despite her sleepy protests. Liza tried to grapple back, but Clint was too strong and she gave up, sighing. "Your kids are loud."

"Just be glad you don't live here."

"Oh, I am. I love them to death, don't get me wrong, but I didn't expect that violent of a wakeup call at the butt crack of dawn."

Her big cousin chuckled and rolled off her, settling an arm under his head and wrapping the other one around her shoulders. "Don't mind them, Lizzie, they're just excited to see you, that's all."

"Yeah," She yawned, "I know. I better get down there, though." Sliding out of her bed's warm embrace, she shuffled to the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and fished in her little toiletries bag, then once she'd found what she needed, started to brush her teeth.

Liza never thought she'd get used to her resident assassin's presence, much less miss it, but there was something comforting about his massive self looming behind her as they crammed together in her tiny bathroom, both vying for a turn at the sink, that she missed. Not that she'd ever tell anyone that. No one even knew Bucky was staying with her.

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. That could be a problem when Natasha showed up; the woman was like a human lie dectector and, as much as she liked to pretend otherwise, Liza was a terrible liar.

Speak of the devil and he (she?) shall appear.

"You look stressed." Liza yelped and jumped out of her skin, knocking over a row of tiny travel-sized bottles and scaring the hell out of one of the Bartons' nine cats, who just happened to be sleeping on the back of the toilet. "I'd say sorry, but that was the funniest damn thing I've seen in months."

Liza glanced up at the doorway, hand plastered to her chest in a vain attempt to calm her racing heart, and glared at the exquisitely curvaceous redhead leaning against the doorway, watching her with those unnerving green eyes. "Don't do that, you stupid spider."

Natasha just smirked. "Hello to you, too."

Busying her hands with straightening the bottles to hide the shaking, Liza turned away. "So, I'm assuming you're here for the party?"

"Nah, I'm just here to get my bra back. I believe you stole it."

"That is one hell of a bra, Nat."

"Liza, is something wrong? You seem nervous."

She cursed herself silently. "Yeah, well you did just scare the living hell out of me, so I am a little shaken, yes."

Nat rolled her eyes and backed out of the bathroom, pulling the door closed. "Don't think I'm forgetting this."

Liza stuck her tongue out, but the second that door was closed, she sank against the counter with a heaving sigh of relief. The cat from earlier poked its head out from behind the shower curtain and mewled.

"Sorry about that, Posey. Not my fault." She held her fingers out. Posey sniffed the air delicately, then conceded to rub her cheeks against Liza's hand. "I miss him. I know that's stupid, but I do. I've been alone in that apartment for, like, a whole year, but I was never lonely. Now, without my Adonis of a roomate, I'm pining like a horny teenager."

Posey regarded her carelessly. "Maybe I should get a cat." Posey flicked an ear and widened her eyes, twitching her whiskers. Liza nodded, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Yeah, maybe not."

She got back to her feet and began puttering through her morning routine. Breakfast and two very excitable kids were waiting.


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay, um so I just realized that I misspelled that poor cat's name last chapter. It's Posy, like the flower. Not the baseball player. So, yeah. The idea was to name all nine after flowers, but I screwed up lol. Whoops.**

Breakfast with three under tens was a good 180 from eating with her supersoldier. There was yelling, laughing, lots of childish chatter, and of course, the guaranteed Barton Food Fight. Laura just sighed in mock frustration and wiped Nate down with a paper towel.

"I knew these two were bad," She gestured at Cooper and Lila, "but I thought you two might choose to act your age for once."

Liza and Clint shared a horrified look, as if just the prospect of being grown-ups was the worst punishment imaginable. Laura rolled her eyes and dedicated both hands to wrangling Nate back into his high chair.

"So, Coop, Lila," The little terrors looked up, "I thought you two, me, and Dad might go for a ride later? Just us four?"

"And what about me?" Natasha held her bagel in one hand, the other under her chin. Lila covered her mouth.

"Nah," Liza waved it aside, "Bartons only. And besides, you and Laura need some girl time."

The assassin narrowed her eyes playfully. "You're a girl. So's Lila."

"You're still not a Barton."

Natasha scoffed and took a long drink of coffee. "This is ridiculous."

Clint and Liza just glanced at each other and shrugged.

"We don't make the rules, Nat, we just uphold the principles of the noble and most ancient house of Barton."

"And you watch way too much Harry Potter."

"No such damn thing."

"Oh, I beg to differ."

"No, no, they have a point." Laura pointed out from the kitchen. Natasha gasped.

"So being a traitor runs in the family," The poor woman just sighed and went back to flipping pancakes. Make that six children.

Despite past experience, the fact that Cooper and Lila were a half year older and Lila had her own pony made the ride a _bit_ more hectic than in past years. Clint spent half the ride threatening that he would 'turn this trail ride around so help me God' and Liza nearly fell off the horse she was laughing so hard.

All in all, a wholesome family bonding experience in the woods.

"Wonder how mad Laura and Nat would be if we came home with two kids on a sugar high." Liza pondered the idea.

"Fairly peeved, but where in the hell are we going to get any food out here?"

"I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"You're wearing a wife beater."

"My metaphorical sleeve, Elizabeth, damn you." She smirked and leaned over and shoved him in the shoulder.

They turned the horses down a little trail that skirted the base of a cliff, so narrow they went single file. Clint went first, since he was the only one who knew where they were supposed to be going, then the kiddos, then Liza bringing up the rear.

She couldn't help but marvel at the wilderness around her. Clint had picked the middle of nowhere to take his family off the grid and keep them safe, but until she'd visited for the first time, Liza never knew the middle of nowhere could be so absolutely breathtaking. She could see the Rockies on the horizon, a little river snaking its way through the trees to a long lake glittering like diamonds in the sun.

Cooper and Nate and Lila were damn lucky to be growing up out here, and she hoped they knew it. She hoped they knew how much their parents loved them and she hoped that one day they'd appreciate all the sacrifices Clint and Laura were making for them.

"Hey, Liz, we're nearly there! Pick up the pace a little, will you?" Liza shook herself out of her reverie and found that the trail had widened enough for her to fall in next to Cooper.

"Dad, are we going to Miss Julie's?"

"You'll see, just hold tight."

"Who's Miss Julie, Clint?" Liza squinted suspiciously at her older cousin, but he shot that idea down fast.

"Don't even go there, she owns the general store down that way, and there's an ice cream parlor and some candy she keeps in stock."

Liza whistled through her teeth. "A whole ice cream parlor? I wasn't even sure you guys had a gas station out here!"

Clint scowled at her again. Liza just stuck her tongue out, earning a badly smothered giggle from Lila.

"Alright, Liz, here's the deal. You shut up and I don't kill you."

She seemed to ponder it for a moment, then nodded. "Sounds fair."

"It's more than fair," Clint scoffed. Liza threw a pinecone at the back of his head in retaliation.

Cooper drew himself up with all the dignity an eleven year old could muster and barked out, "Auntie Liza and Daddy, you need to _use your words_ , don't hit!"

Clint and Liza exchanged a look, attempted to nod solemnly, then promptly burst out laughing. Liza slumped forward, crying tears of mirth into her horse's mane, while Clint leaned so far back, he almost fell off the back. Cooper went red as a tomato, but managed to giggle at himself.

When they'd pulled themselves together, Liza wiped her tears away and sighed happily.

"Whoo, boy. I tell y'all what, I better have abs after that."

* * *

 **I did the thing, I actually posted.**

 **Feedback from you guys is one of the best things in the world.**


End file.
